


An Unexpected Encounter

by skytramp



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Original Work
Genre: Dungeons and Dragons Campaign Story, Elf/Human Relationship(s), F/F, Fantasy Age Difference, Partners in Crime, Partners to Lovers, Unhappy Ending, lingering feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-07-11 12:35:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19928158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skytramp/pseuds/skytramp
Summary: It’s here, crouched in the shadows on some Gnomish lord's patio in Iron Crossing, that Dana ses her again. She looks the same, maybe a little older, a little wilder in the eyes, but Safnotha hasn't really changed at all in the five years since Dana had seen her last.Dana, an elf rogue down on her luck, finds herself at the same event as her ex lover and business partner, the human con woman Safnotha. She recalls their history.





	An Unexpected Encounter

**Author's Note:**

> I'm the DM of a DnD 5E game set in my own homebrew world but with a lot of traditional and Forgotten Realms influences. Dana and Safnotha are two of my NPCs who it was decided, weirdly organically, by my players, probably had a _a history_. I absolutely ran with that in the moment and decided it was canon, they were definitely ex girlfriends and I needed to write the story.
> 
> So this happened. Fan fic of my own dnd campaign but actually its just fiction and actually canon not fanfic at all.

It’s here, crouched in the shadows on some Gnomish lord's patio in Iron Crossing, that Dana ses her again. She looks the same, maybe a little older, a little wilder in the eyes, but Safnotha hasn't really changed at all in the five years since Dana had seen her last. Her hair is shorter, but the same color brown, her golden-brown eyes and dark skin still seem to glow in the lamplight. It would be strange, for any other human, that she was unchanged, but there has always been something ageless, timeless, about Safnotha that confuses the Elven mechanisms in Dana's brain.    
  


Dana is here for a different purpose, a quest of life and death and retrieving a friend far more valuable than any past she has with this woman. From the shadowy edges of the patio she also sees her target, the aasimar bard, tall and blonde in his ridiculous outfit, standing alone near the door, if only he would venture further towards her hiding place all could proceed as planned.    
  


She spares one more glance through the large lit up window, where Safnotha, resplendent in her green gown, and the Tiefling woman beside her entertain their Gnomish host, then she moves.    
  
  


On the mountainous, cobblestoned streets of Borlogne, Dana saw Safnotha for the first time. Dana, young, for an elf, with lithe frame and violet hair, nothing more than a small time thief, good with her head and better with her hands, had been making a living off the heedless and drunk nobles of various major cities for the last decade. She sent most of her proceeds out east to her family in Sadend, and kept just enough for a modest living in a sketchy inn. If it hadn't been for Safnotha's hands, Dana never would have known her from one of the nobles. They were brown, the same golden brown radiance of the rest of Safnotha's skin, but the pale palms had the same callouses as Dana's own, worn from years of lockpicking, and the same harsh pickpocket training Dana's own Thiefmaster had used to teach her decades before.    
  


It was because of her hands that Dana followed her that day, Safnotha in an elaborate gown of green and silver, laughed raucously on the arm of some half-orc nobleman, and Dana watched from the shadows as Safnotha leaned in, the ghost of a breath against the green-gray skin of the man's mouth, and her left hand deftly untied the fasteners of his coin pouch and slipped the entire thing into a hidden pocket in her skirt. It was seamless, beautiful in its method, without even a jostle of the man's ornate belt, but he looked suspicious as they parted, and Dana saw his eyes darting at first in confusion, and tipping towards anger.    
  


Dana moved. Drawing her dagger, she dashed towards the couple. Being noticed wasn't her usual MO, and it was all she could do to avoid slipping behind a passing carriage as she approached, but, if she had read the man correctly, she had only seconds. She lunged towards the man, slicing the now-empty fasteners of his coin pouch and belt, and heard him shout as she darted away. She made a show of stuffing something into her own bag as she scaled the nearest building and continued running, leaping between rooftops until she knew she couldn't be followed.    
  


She knew her distraction would work, an obvious "robbery" to hide the real theft, and at least this way there was no danger of her being caught with a nobleman's purse. This woman though, whoever she was, absolutely owed Dana a drink.   


It was nearly a week later when they formally met. Dana sat in her normal Low-Town tavern, a place called Rickard’s, though no one knew who Rickard was or if he even existed. She sipped her mug of ale and flipped a silver coin in her boredom. The tavern could never afford the services of a bard, and the nearest thing to entertainment she ever saw was the occasional drunken brawl, but Rickard’s was inconspicuous, and the straw beds only had a few bugs when Dana laid down at night for her trance. She didn't notice when Safnotha entered, and if she hadn't strode confidently up to Dana's table and sat down across from her, Dana might not have recognized her at all.  
  
Her long brown hair was tied back, its wavy curl wrapped around a few long narrow sticks that fastened the whole bunch to the back of her skull. She no longer wore nobles' clothes, but the demure brown leather armor of most adventurers with a deep green cloak over her shoulders. Her hands were uncovered, and Dana saw the same edges of the familiar callouses as she placed two mugs on the table and slid one across to Dana.   
  
"I believe I owe you this, and perhaps more, for your assistance the other day." Safnotha's voice was infused with her smile, and more girlish than Dana would have thought. Human ages could be hard to judge, and on a closer look, Dana wondered if this woman was barely more than a girl, or just portrayed a youthful visage.   
  
Dana simply nodded and finished her own mug of ale to set it aside and accept the gift. "It was a good trick,” she said, “I don't know how he caught on, but I wouldn't be trying him again anytime soon." Dana could hear the difference in her own voice, a contrasting low tone to this woman's girlish presence. She heard the clipped edges of her consonants that betrayed her eastern accent. She held the gifted ale between her hands but did not drink.  
  
Safnotha laughed in reply, and Dana watched the flash of her white teeth and the shake of her shoulders. "Oh, of course not, darling," she said with a smile and waved her hand, "that old green bastard won't be seeing his favorite girl again. And your,” she leaned across the table and lowered her voice, “ _assistance_ gave me the distraction I needed to clean out his vault." She was still smiling as she leaned back, pulled something from a bag at her hip, and slid a black pouch across the table.   
  
Dana stared at the pouch for a few seconds before taking it and examining the contents. Platinum. Honest to Gods real platinum, and if Dana wasn't wrong, at least twenty pieces. This was the type of score Dana was never reckless enough to try, the type that required cleaning out the vault of a nobleman. She tried to hide the pleasure on her face when she looked back up.   
  
"For your help." Safnotha continued, "And I have a proposition…"   
  
  
And so it began. They left Borlogne that night and camped the roads to Dinesse, traveling northeast along the trade road and beyond the mountains. Safnotha was the face, and Dana the distraction, and they'd run the scam on as many nobles as they could get to give Safnotha in her most revealing gowns a second look, which were _many_. They quickly discovered that where Safnotha was the much better talker, Dana was the better safe cracker, and she could disappear even in a lighted room if you let yourself forget her. Safnotha seemed to weave a spell with her words, and could convince anyone of anything if she was trying.  
  
Dana no longer stayed in modest taverns, but rented a small home in a nicer neighborhood. She began dressing as a noble herself, to blend in. She found she loved the softness of breeches around her legs, and the flowing shirts the men wore when they didn't have to worry about being knifed in an alley gave her the freedom to hide half a dozen daggers beneath them against her ribs. She bought herself nice leather boots, and Safnotha hired someone to shine them. She bought herself a tall hat to hide her violet hair and when she looked in the mirror she liked how she appeared: a young Elven nobleman in society, some merchant lord's spoiled son with shiny boots, gloves, and a decorative cane.   
  
  
The first time that Safnotha kissed her was on a lark. They were walking, arm in arm through a garden on some nobleman’s estate when most of the party was too drunk to walk, let alone notice them wander off by themselves. Dana wore her best men's clothing and Safnotha wore one of her gowns, gold this time, and her golden brown eyes shone in the distant dancing party lights.   
  
"What do you think the people here think of us?” Safnotha asked, “A handsome young couple, aren't we? Just a couple of kids in love, enjoying the moonlight." Safnotha stopped them, putting a hand to Dana’s chest, and Dana looked up towards the rising moon.   
  
"What would these stuffy nobles think if you kissed me?" She continued, and smiled as she turned and placed herself squarely in front of Dana. When she stepped forward she was looking up from just below Dana’s chin. "Do you think they'd be scandalized?" Safnotha moved closer, leaning up onto the tips of her toes as her hands came to rest on Dana's shoulders. "Imagine if they knew the truth.” She whispered, “Imagine if they knew we were here to take all their ill gotten coin for ourselves." Dana could feel her breath on her own lips. Dana felt a shiver run through her, and her own hands, stiff at her sides, flexed and released while she placed them gently on Safnotha’s waist. It was all part of the act, a performance that Dana never quite felt comfortable acting in.  
  
"Well,” Safnotha said, louder this time, “let's sell it, shall we?"   
  
And Safnotha kissed her. She leaned into it, running her fingertips across the back of Dana's neck and up into her hair, tugging at the base where it met her scalp and jostling the majority of the hair hidden beneath her cap. She kissed hard, with the same energy she always exuded, and Dana felt like she could surely be robbed in this moment and not even notice. In her hesitance, Dana kissed back slowly, and pulled away when Safnotha's left hand slid beneath her loose fitting shirt.   
  
"Too much?" Safnotha said innocently, and slid her hand free, tapping the hip where she'd untucked Dana's shirt as if putting it back in place. "Good show, partner,” Safnotha smiled as she stepped back, “but loosen up, we wouldn't want these old society folks to think you only fancy other boys, now would we?"   
  
  
Things changed after that, if only imperceptibly at first. A few of their targets were nearing completion, and Safnotha dared not stay in the same home as Dana, fearing a target's hired men would see her arm in arm with this mysterious Elven man and shift their affections. Dana understood the ruse, but found herself pacing the hours she was alone. One night she could no longer stand the boredom, and she returned to the solace of her old life. She donned her leathers and skulked to the old river docks where the scoundrels and cutpurses of Dinesse made their modest living.   
  
She left much of her share of their earnings at home, in a safe beside her bed, but carried enough coin to tip generously. As evening turned to night, the coin she was tipping caught the attention of the barmaid in one of the darker taverns whose name Dana forgot as soon as she spotted the faded sign.  
  
"You aren't from here, darlin', I don't smell the river on you," the halfling woman said as she cleared Dana's third glass. She was curvy, and wore a blue dress, though it was mostly covered by her tan apron that had collected many a spilled drink. "what's some noble doing slumming it here with the rest of us? And are you interested in some company?"  
  
Dana was taken aback by the assumption almost as much as the offer. "I'm no noble." She replied, and the halfling woman smiled expectantly. Dana found herself feeling reckless. "But I'll take a room if you've got one free, don't think I'm in any state to get back home tonight."  
  
On the way home the next morning Dana felt the knot in her stomach. She knew she was free to do as she pleased, and that Safnotha certainly must be entertaining their targets in any number of ways, but something about what she had done felt wrong. It felt like a betrayal of their partnership, and if the halfling barmaid had the same golden eyes as Safnotha and the ale blurred the rest Dana didn't think about it too hard.   
  
  
Working multiple targets had its risks, and Dana felt their plans coiling into a tense knot as Safnotha gained more and more access to the nobles’ fortunes. But they had their plan, and miraculously, it worked. Safnotha feigned illness and relieved one man of his coin, as Dana cracked the vault of another, and in the ensuing chaos Safnotha begged safety and shelter from their most gullible target and freed him of his wealth as well. They met at the river after dark, bags bulging, their rented house having been shuttered and paper trails obscured, and as they hopped their newly purchased river boat and kicked it free from the dock they embraced, and Dana kissed Safnotha.   
  
She told herself in the moment it was the high emotion, the adrenaline of a completed job, the hundreds of platinum in the bags at their feet that made her do it. But the glow of Safnotha's eyes in the moonlight, and the contrast of Dana's pale hand as she placed it on Safnotha's cheek, and the memory of the kiss in the garden seemed to override any sense of fear.   
  
The boat began to drift, slowly leaving its moors, and Safnotha kissed back before pulling away. "Finally!" She breathed in exclamation, and Dana heard the smile in her voice again, even as she could see the hint of it in the darkness, "you're the most stubborn target I've ever had, darling, and now that I know you're _interested_ … well, this will be fun." Safnotha dove into the kiss and began to yank loose the ties from her dress.   
  
They made love there, on the deck of their boat, drifting aimlessly downriver, atop a bed of their own clothes and scattered coin from an overturned bag.   
  
  
They set themselves up in the capital city, Teinau. The city stood proud at the mouth of the river, temples and towers of the university looming over the shore of the sea. With a city that size they quickly found they did not have to leave town after each score, provided they were careful, and they continued to amass coin as partners in both business and romance.   
  
Though business flourished, Dana still found herself unsure about the rest. She was insecure in the idea that Safnotha, this light-made-flesh of a person who turned every head in every room in Noxspara, could be content in her arms. Unsure that she had the type of charismatic pull that kept people close to her. But, by all evidence, Safnotha seemed happy. She showed her love with actions, rather than saying it. She often offered gifts and favors, and remembered Dana’s favorite things.   
  
Two years passed by the time Dana realized she hadn’t sent anything but coin to her family in the eastern isle of Sadend since she had met Safnotha. She left no return address to receive letters, and it was remarkable how little she thought about them. Dana and Safnotha moved frequently, avoiding the city center, the temple district, and the university in favor of surrounding areas. They attempted to draw as little attention as possible, renting large homes in comfortable neighborhoods. They discreetly had secure locking safes installed in each one.   
  
Safnotha became a staple in high society, and no one seemed to notice that as she flitted from lover to lover, their fortunes each turned. They tried their best not to bankrupt anyone, their targets weren’t evil, simply too rich for their own good, and many of their targets did not know they were victims of a crime at all until long past. Some in society whispered of the pretty, quiet, Elven man that Safnotha kept at home, who sometimes appeared from the shadows to walk her home on a dangerous night, or who stepped in from nowhere at parties when an entitled son got too handsy, but no one knew his name or really cared. Safnotha was the show, and the city of Tainau was her captive audience.   
  
  
Sir Garen Standison was the third son of the richest man in Tainau, beloved darling of half the High Council, and Dana and Safnotha’s final target. Dana did not know he was their final target when Safnotha pointed him out to her during a High Council fundraiser, all she saw was a handsome, if oblivious-looking, human man with a strong jaw and curling golden hair. According to Safnotha, he was twenty two, her age exactly, and destined to live off his father’s money for the rest of his days without responsibility or worry. He was perfect for their purposes, and Dana encouraged their plan. Safnotha would befriend Sir Garen, ingratiate herself with the house, learn where Garen’s father Lord Trevor Standison kept the bulk of his coin, and Dana would steal it. _Simple._   
  
It was two weeks later when Dana, after sharing a few drinks with the rough hands near the north docks, returned to their home in her dusty leathers to find Safnotha and Garen entwined on the bed they shared. She froze, and Safnotha froze as well, at first. Their eye contact seemed to last a lifetime, but as Dana’s expression turned to grief, and fear, Safnotha looked not guilty, but confused. Dana stood still in the doorway. Garen, the hapless fool that he was, at least took cue to dress and depart. Neither woman moved as Garen exited the house.   
  
When the front door echoed shut in the distance Dana approached. “Why was he here?” She asked, and she heard the rage bellowing from deep in her chest, “This isn’t part of the job! If he knows where we live then we’re compromised!” Her voice became tight, and she realized it was because she was on the edge of tears. She choked them back, determined to resist. “Why did you bring him here?” She repeated.  
  
Safnotha laughed, and Dana felt the doors of her heart open and slam shut. “It was _just_ some fun, I was bored and he was _so pretty_!” Safnotha sat up straighter and tucked her knees beneath her on the bed, Dana tried not to watch the way her nude body moved. “You said so yourself, darling. Why do you look so upset? Garen couldn’t hurt a fly, and honestly, his daddy won’t even miss what we’re going to take from him!”   
  
Dana felt the guilt, a weight in her chest trying to crush every moment that they had together over the past two years. She worried about her mother, alone in Sadend, and her sister apprenticed to a blacksmith in the Southern Isles, when had she even spoken to them last? What sort of spell had Safnotha weaved on her that made her forget everything that wasn’t her? Part of her felt relief, like all the plates she’d been spinning to keep Safnotha interested had just shattered on the floor, but she didn’t have to pick them up again. She could simply walk away, because none of it had been enough for her in the first place.   
  
“I’m taking 200 platinum and leaving.” Dana said, turning towards their safe, “You can have the rest.” She crossed the room. She opened the safe quickly and glanced at the piles of gold and platinum, the now countless targets their scheme had stolen from made precious metal before her eyes. She scooped what seemed like a correct amount into her large purse, grabbed a nearly empty backpack from the closet, and left the bedroom.   
  
Safnotha followed her, heedless of modesty as she trailed Dana naked down the stairs. “Where are you _going_? Are you _jealous_?” Safnotha’s voice called, shaking from the hurried movement, “It’s cute that you’re so upset, but _come here_ , darling, let me _hold_ you.” Safnotha’s voice, so smooth and alluring, became panicked as her pleas went unanswered. Dana refused to turn. Safnotha seemed scared, and so much of Dana wanted to turn back and take her up on her offer, to hold her to her chest and refuse to let go, but she knew that she couldn’t.   
  
She left their home, she left the city, and took a ship bound for Sadend.   
  
  
In the last three years Dana heard tales of Safnotha’s deeds. Dana knew when Safnotha joined The Cloaked Laugh, perhaps for the protection that a guild could offer in the wake of a few failed scores. She knew when Ser Garen Standison married a tiefling woman from the North, and she knew that rumors flew about a beautiful ex-lover scorned by the marriage. But mostly, now, she knew about her own life. She knew that her mother, still youthful by Elven standards, had found a suitor of her own, and when she married him beneath the moon in a temple of Selune Dana was there. She knew her sister had learned quickly, and opened her own forge in the Greensea and Dana visited to help her establish customers, and to make sure no one was tempted to bother the newcomer. She also knew her old friend Runner, a dwarven man half her height who had long ago pledged to serve the god Yurtrus, and when he returned to Sadend and asked her to join his adventuring group she said yes.  
  
From the dark shadowy corner of the patio in Iron Crossing, Dana remembers all this as she watches Safnotha laugh through the glass. What she hadn’t known was that she would lose Runner, and all the rest of her adventuring companions, and that she would find herself stranded and panicked within the ancient walls of Iron Crossing, hoping this ridiculous bard and his friends will save her. What she hadn’t known, was that a large part of her soul still longs to hold Safnotha in her arms, even as the hurt lingers. Yet here she is, on a rich Gnomish lord’s patio, staring at the distant face of Safnotha through large windows.   
  
And she doesn’t know what is to come. 


End file.
